Page 19 of Holy Sinner

“Grant? Is that you?”

I stare another second before it clicks. It’s Gentry Roland, renowned film composer and the man responsible for the Iron Shield movie scores. After seven movies, I know the man well enough but apparently not enough to recognize him when I’m trying not to kill someone.

I need to work on that. Definitely too emotional.

“Gentry, how’s it going?”

Gentry ambles up to me with his wife in tow and the closer they get, the more genuine my smile becomes. It’s is a good thing they’ve seen me because they know how fucked the paparazzi can be when they think there’s cash to be made. They’ll be good alibis for me not killing this asshole. He’s as good as dead, just not tonight.

“Oh, you know, just out with the missus,” Gentry says and pats the hand of the pretty brunette woman on his arm. She’s clutching an umbrella and sticking to Gentry as close as she can to stay dry but the composer doesn't mind the rain. He leans close and takes a look at the photographer, blinking through the water on his glasses.

“You got throw up on you, son.”

“I, uh, wasn’t feeling well,” the photographer mumbles when I shoot a glare his way.

“Found him inside, brought him out here when he looked queasy, isn’t that right?” I ask and clap a hand on his shoulder.

He winces and nods. “Yeah, that’s right. T-thanks.”

“Oh, your camera, it’s all broken!” Gentry’s wife points at the shattered lens at our feet. “How did that happen?”

Gentry chuckles. “Oh, I think I know. Accidents like that happen all the time in this business, don’t they?” he asks and gives me a knowing look with a wink.

I wink back. “They sure do, especially when all you want is a little peace and quiet on a special occasion. Good thing it’s just a lens, though. Could be a lot worse.”

We all look at the photographer who squirms and nods. “Yeah, it could be.”

“You should get going,” I tell him and then motion for Gentry and his wife to follow me back to the VIP entrance. “I’ll help get that moved and we can get inside before the storm gets worse.”

Gentry’s wife clutches her skirt and gives me a relieved smile. “Oh, thank god. If I ruin this dress the designer will lose it. This is our first night out in months and I wanted to look extra special but then this rain just ruined it.” We only make it a step before she pauses and looks back at the photographer. “Is he okay, though? Maybe we should-”

“You look lovely. This color suits you,” I tell her and from the blush on her cheeks I know she’s forgotten all about the photographer.

“Oh, thank you. I’ve never worn it before and thought it would be fun.”

“It’s more than fun, it’s perfect.”

She giggles and Gentry swats my arm. “You’ve got your own gal, don’t steal my wife.”

I smile good-naturedly and duck my head the way I know I’m supposed to and the conversation turns light. When I glance over my shoulder I see him standing there. Aaron Jamie. I tighten my grip on the license that tells me exactly who he is and where he lives. He’s not getting away from me.

It only takes a second for Aaron to realize I’m looking at him before he bolts and runs out of the alleyway, clutching the remains of his camera.

Chapter Ten

RAFE

“Who the fuck is Aaron Jamie?”

I raise the license Grant tossed in my lap a minute ago and watch him while he paces. Kit is in bed in the next room. It took a while to calm her down after we left the restaurant and brought her home.

“The fucking piece of shit that followed us to The Cellar.”

“Ah, the photographer.”

“Yeah, him.”

“How’d you get this?” I ask and narrow my eyes, already expecting the worst out of Grant’s messy ass. “You killed him?”

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